Van Richten's Monster Hunter's.pdf - Askadesign.com

.
ablaze with a profusion of wildflowers.
Before the chill of night sets in, the
breezes are gentle, carrying with them
the whispers of the trees, and the
perfumes of myriad flora.
I find that now I can look back on
those days of youth with pleasure, and
can relish their richness. Such was not
always the case. Once, the slightest
reminder of the past would rack me
with pain and grief. For I had been
sundered from those innocent, joyful
times by a chasm that no living man
could ever cross.
In what now seems a previous
lifetime, I had a family I loved, a
profession I cherished. I was a simple
healer leading a simple existence.
Then a wretched, blood-sucking horror
took my wife and child. My simple
existence died with them, and I came
to follow a path very different from the
one I had chosen for myself.
Today I am driven not by my own
needs and whims, but by a central
cause: to rid the world of the Accursed,
those unnatural and supernatural
predators who threaten the lives and
happiness of all. I speak, of course, of
those beings which some have
imprecisely classed as "monsters:" the
various forms of undead, the
shapeshifters, and other fiendish beasts
who feast on sorrow and pain.
Some who know of my cause be-
lieve me to be driven by vengeance.
Not so. This once was true, of course.
After the loss of my beloved wife and
son, desire for vengeance burned
brightly within me. It shames me to
admit it, but I took great pleasure in
sending the fell beast who had de-
stroyed my family down into the black-
ness of true death. The realization that
I had enjoyed my act forced me to re-
examine my motives, however, and to
scrutinize the very shadows in my soul.
It was that intense personal scrutiny
which redirected my efforts. From that
moment forward, I no longer sought
the destruction of such foul creatures
for personal benefit or desire for
EEBEASTS
vengeance. Today my central
motivation is to spare others the
torture and heartache that I myself
have suffered. If I go to my grave
knowing that I have saved only one
person from the torment that I was
forced to endure, I will count myself a
lucky man and judge my life to have
been of worth.
As I have stated, once I did not believe
the legends of the shapeshifters, the
werebeasts. It was in my thirty-ninth
year that I discovered my mistake. By
that time, I had traveled the length and
breadth of Darkon in my quest to
eliminate the unnatural predators
which threatened the populace namely,
the undead. I was near Varithne, a
village too tiny to appear on most
maps. It lies in the north of Darkon,
where the terrain is rugged and the
populace sparse. As was (and still is)
my habit, I stopped at the local tavern
at day's end, seeking a glass of brandy
and a bit of conversation.
That night, Varithne's tavern was
crowded. Nearly all who filled the room
were talking of strange
disappearances. Simply by listening, I
discovered their plight.
Over the past fortnight, seven men
had gone missing. The first two were
shepherds. As it was the season for
doing so, they had led their flocks into
the hills to graze. Neither shepherds
nor sheep ever returned. Scant days
later, a pair of professional hunters
joined the ranks of the missing. The
people of Varithne had hired these two
men to provide meat for the village.
Their hunting expedition was to last
only a day or two, but like the
shepherds they failed to return,
The latest to disappear were three
travelers who claimed they hailed from
a land called Sembia. These
adventurous men took it upon
themselves to locate the shepherds
and hunters. Again, none returned,